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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120939">Peridots</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wifibitz/pseuds/wifibitz'>wifibitz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Romance, i have no idea where im going with this, i love them, idk - Freeform, john is wilburs son and you can pry that out of my cold dead hands, maybe this will simply be It, willoway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:48:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wifibitz/pseuds/wifibitz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Willoway are idiots but lovable ones</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wilbur Cross/Miss Holloway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Peridots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Carolina Maureen Holloway— Carrie, if you please— never considered herself to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> unusual. Sure, vivid dreams all her life and having imaginary friends past the age of nine set her aside from her peers, but she didn’t care. She went on with her life, simply standing in place as moments flew past, and she watched them pass with a knowing smile. Life was beautiful and mesmerising to her, like a mosaic, and she didn’t mind not adding too much to her own. However, she was curious, and looked through the stained glass of reality more often than not, and that brought her both everywhere and nowhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did, however, have one good friend. Webby. Yes, Webby really only lived in her mind, but that didn’t make her imaginary! Webby was kind, and she understood. She guided Carrie through life, keeping her spirits up when things weren’t great, and keeping her humble enough when she felt on top of the world. Holloway was happy to have her, though. More of a mother than her own, and more of a friend than anyone else she knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The price of Webby’s friendship, however, was enemies. She knew her friend was doing all she could to keep her safe, but webs have holes, and things can reach through. They all fought and screamed over her in her dreams, a cacophony of miserable wails and tortured cries; any sound horrific to human ears would be played on loop. It was relentless, but she knew she was tough, and that Webby would make things right when the sun rose again in the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she could live with that. When Carrie was 19, Webby pointed her away from her home in Tennessee, and away from her growing potential for music. It was 1984, and a new military base was being built on an island in Michigan. Carrie didn’t really consider herself the type, but Webby insisted, and who was she to disobey her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she joined. “PEIP” they called it, and most everyone there took a shine to her right away. Especially one of them, and she liked him right back. First Lieutenant Wilbur Cross. She wasn’t in the same group as him for OCS, but they were close enough that they got a lot of the same work. Technically under his command, yes, but he saw her as a peer, she could tell. It was mostly banter, bickering like an old married couple while they called each other by last names, making fun of each other and the people around them. It was good, and Webby agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Years passed, and she got shipped around while he was lucky enough to stay in Hatchetfield. In 1987, he had adopted a son, one Johnathan Liberty Macnamara. She didn’t get to see him much at all, there were too many problems in too many places that she had to deal with. But he was… interesting to her. Her Webby radar, so to speak, kept going off around him, he was different. Nevertheless, she was a busy woman, and had things to do, places to be!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the years, she’d kept in touch with Wilbur, plenty of phone calls, plenty of letters, all of which she saved. She was head over heels, in a way. Yes, they’d gone on “dates,” but she never considered them to be of any importance. They were friends! So what if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. But admitting anything? No, not her style. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> his however. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In 2004, PEIP had started working on a portal. It was all under wraps, and far out of her area, but she knew it wouldn’t end well. Her dear old friend Wilbur had told her the basics. And she didn’t approve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you. You don’t know the amount of problems this will cause, do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Molly, listen to me. We’ve been over this a thousand times, nothing at all will be hurt, this is for the better! Don’t you get it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get just </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> this is something an idiot would do! And don’t call me that, Cross, I’m upset with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calling me ‘Cross’ now, are you? Now that means you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>mad.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes! I am! You, one of the highest up at PEIP, are deciding to step into something no one here can handle by themselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, there’s plenty of PEIPs, Molly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not letting you go through with this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This wasn’t even my idea!” he laughed. “Ask the general, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one who wanted it.” Holloway sighed and rubbed at her face. “Wilbur, do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>realise</span>
  </em>
  <span> just how much this could affect everyone?! Not just PEIP, not just you, but the entire </span>
  <em>
    <span>universe?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur sighed and took her hands. “Molly, this isn’t my decision to make, understand? I’m just following orders.” She took her hands back quickly. “I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>care</span>
  </em>
  <span> if you’re following orders, you’re letting a bad thing happen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “You’re in PEIP too, you know what it’s like. What General Davidson wants, he gets. Can’t stand the man, but he’s the boss. It’s an obligation, whether you like it or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that!” she snapped, putting her hands in her pockets as well. “I know you aren’t the one fuelling it, but at least make an effort! He hasn’t responded to a single thing I’ve tried to get through to him, it’s painful in and of itself.” She sighed and took her hands out of her pockets, running one through her hair. “I really don’t know,” she said, sadness in her voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur reached for something in his pocket and moved closer to her, keeping a safe distance. “I know it’s awful to say, but you look so pretty when you’re sad.” Holloway looked up, staring at him with wide eyes and confusion. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled and took another step closer. “I’m trying to compliment you, woman,” he said gently, laughing to himself a bit as he fiddled with something in his pocket. She noticed that much, and studied him for a second. “What on earth are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his free hand, he took one of hers and knelt in front of her. “Carrie,” he said seriously. He took a small box out of his pocket and opened it, and she paled. “No,” she said immediately, pulling her hand back as quick as she could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” he said, standing back up, his eyes broken. “Molly, please-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wilbur! Why now?! Why after you tell me about the portal, why when you’re 39 years old, why after John moved out! Why!” Tears were running down her face, and she didn’t care to try to stop them. This was her life, she’d been too stagnant to start anything, and he’d been too unreadable to give her a push. He sighed and put his hand out for hers. “Because I’m the one they’re putting through the portal, because I don’t know when I’ll get another chance, and because I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked. “You do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I do! Why else would I have this?” he asked, exasperated as he pressed the ring into her hand. “I don’t know if I’ll be alive in a year, let me at least say I got the chance to marry the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.” He sighed and took her other hand with both of his. “You know I’m awful at this sort of thing, just… reconsider.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slowly let go of her hand, but she held on. “Why didn’t you say something twenty years ago?” she asked, shaking her head ever-so-slightly. “I would’ve said yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about now?” he asked, letting her hold onto his hand. “I know I didn’t ask then, I regret it, but I’m asking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And now is an awful time to ask!” she said, looking sad. “What don’t you understand!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Carrie, you know me, there’s more I don’t understand than I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> understand. I know this isn’t a good time, I know you’re upset, I just want you to be happy, and I thought this would make you happy.”</span>
</p><p><span>She sighed and looked at the ring in her hand. “It really is nice,” she murmured, turning it over in her palm. “The peridots are a nice detail.”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“I thought you’d like it, it matches your eyes,” he said, taking her hand with one of his, and putting his hand out for the ring. “So, what do you say?”</span><span><br/></span> <span>“Why not?”</span></p>
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